


(I Know) You Know

by 3x3



Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven: Ares no Tenbin
Genre: Gen, characterization is a nightmare, i hate my internet connection it just killed all the things i already typed ugh, there are other characters too but it doesn't seem fair to tag them, this is the most productive i've been in weeks, try to guess out the whole story good luck with that lmao, we're all living in a lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 05:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15308700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x3/pseuds/3x3
Summary: The blonde looks familiar, but exactly how, in what way, and most importantly, why so, Shirou cannot tell.ORAres is a fake, redo attempt, but we don't tell you by whom or what for.





	(I Know) You Know

**Author's Note:**

> my attempt at trying to write a minor character's viewpoint, so we only get fractions of the whole story.  
> Nope they are technically NOT the protags in this AU.  
> Ares verse so they are not going to sound the same as the original universe obv. This is just my take on them. I spent a ridiculous amount of time rewatching the interview clip and the Outer Code ep just end me already.  
> Title taken from the song He's Not Here from the musical Next To Normal seriously give it a go it's like the embodiment of angst.

The blonde looks familiar, but exactly _how, in what way,_ and most importantly, _why so,_ Shirou cannot tell.

His lingering gaze on the television doesn’t go unnoticed by his brother, who nudges his side mischievously with his infamous shit-eating grin.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for crossdressers.” he mocks.

“That’s just their uniform, Atsuya. Don’t be rude.” Shirou frowns, jabbing back, relishing in the way Atsuya lets out a startled yelp. The little ass deserves it.

“Still though, you were _totally_ checking out their captain.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was _not_.” he sighs. “Okay, even if I _were,_ which I _wasn’t_ , how would you even be able to tell? Did you catch my pupils dilating or something?”

“Twin telepathy, _duh_.” Atsuya snorts. “What else could there _possibly be_?”

“Twin telepathy is not a thing, Atsuya. And we’re not even twins.” Shirou adds under his breath.

“Oh yeah?” he retorts. “How else would you explain me somehow knowing your unusual interest in a player of a random team that lost?”

“I think most people refer to it as hallucination.” Shirou replies, trying to make his amusement as subtle as possible. “Or if you prefer, we can blame it on that carton of milk you insisted on drinking yesterday, even though you were fully well-aware that it was long past its expiration date.”

“I just thought we shouldn’t waste food!” his brother splutters.

Shirou accidentally laughs out loud, and Atsuya, being the predictable little brother Shirou has come to know and love, jumps up like a displeased cat, fur sticking up on their ends, “Quit laughing!” he complains, which only makes Shirou laugh harder. “I _swear!_ You are the _worst brother_ in the universe!”

* * *

They’ve been together their whole lives.

Shirou and Atsuya, Atsuya and Shirou. He doesn’t really remember it, but according to his mother, when their parents introduced him to his newborn baby brother Atsuya, one-year-old little Shirou’s eyes lit right up, then proceeded to clutch baby Atsuya’s blanket in his tiny fists, refusing to let go. _It was love at first sight._ His mother had sighed dreamily when she recounted the memory to the boys. They were five and four respectively at the time. It’d made Shirou giggle. (And Atsuya had fake gagged.)

So yes, they’ve always been a pair, a unit, a _team_. Two sides of the same coin, inseparable. Everything should feel _natural._

And it _does_. It really does, and it makes _sense_. It’s all he’s known his entire _life_.

Then why can’t he shake the feeling that there’s something _really, really, really wrong going on_?

He sneaks a glance at Atsuya, and sometimes he sees his vibrant brother: his lively, daring, adventurous douchebag of a dear brother, his _lifelong companion._

Then there are the other times, when he can barely recognize Atsuya. Those other times feel hazy and distorted, like he’s looking through a watery veil.

Then the panic kicks in, engulfing him in the horrible horrible taste of unknown dread in his stomach. The awful feeling twists and churns, _expanding_ , and Shirou loses the ability to breathe properly. It’s like a nightmare, a force trying to scare him away from a world he doesn’t _belong in_.

_Which is crazy. Because if he didn’t belong by Atsuya’s side, where else could he possibly stand?_

The nausea past, eventually, but the bitter aftertaste lingers.

Shirou eats, sleeps, practices as usual. He greets Shiratoya- _san_ when he passes her in the doorway.

_Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong._

He chants it like a mantra.

_Focus. Don’t let the team down only because of your personal issues._ He scolds himself.

He’s a captain, and he’s leading his team to _win_.

“Oi, _Aniki_.”

Shirou slams back down into his body, blinking forcefully until the world no longer looks off-kilter. He puts on his best smile, “Yes, Atusya? I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that.” He says apologetically.

Atsuya’s form shifts, and for a second, he looks almost transparent. A beat, and he’s solid again. “It’s nothing.” his brother scrunches up his eyebrows. “You look distracted.” he remarks.

“Sorry.” Shirou apologizes again. “It won’t affect my play, I promise.”

“It’s not _that_.” Atsuya grumbles, picking at his own fingertips relentlessly. Was he… _embarrassed?_ “I just thought-” he pauses, seemingly at a loss of words. “Don’t overwork yourself, dumbass.”

“Okay.” Shirou replies, a bit surprised. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” he says genuinely.

Atsuya scowls in return, staying silent.

Boy, this is bad. He’s turning into _those_ kinds of brothers. He’s getting weirdly emotional about his little brother starting to be more considerate.

“But if this is about the blonde pretty boy from Zeus then I’m going to have to whack you over the head because we don’t mingle with the enemy.” Atsuya adds as an afterthought.

_Aaaand the weird, proud parent moment vanished entirely_.

“Whoever said anything about _Zeus_? And _mingling with the enemy? Really Atsuya? You just can’t find a better way to phrase that?_ ” Shirou shakes his head, exasperated. _He hasn’t even spared a thought towards the familiar blonde since the strange, flashy reality started twisting around._ “Also, it’s not nice to call someone a _blonde pretty boy_ when he has a perfectly good name.” He chides.

Atsuya groans. “You know how I am with _names._ I don’t know- something that starts with an _A_?”

Shirou’s mouth tugs down, troubled. To be honest, he hasn’t been paying such close attention either. “ _A-_ ” he starts.

His mind flashes blank.

“Aphrodi.” his mouth blurts without permission.

“What?”

“At least, that’s his nickname on the field, I think?” Shirou rubs his arms, feeling the lumpiness of his goosebumps prickling up. He shivers involuntarily.

“I knew it! You’ve got this strange obsession with the guy.” Atsuya accuses. “How else would you even _know_ that?”

“I pay attention, Atsuya, unlike _someone_.” he replies, but his mind is miles away, lurching erratically.

Shirou has never ever heard the name _Aphrodi_ before in his life. He was certain. Because when he watches games, he subconsciously filters out the commentary, and concentrates fully on the game itself.

Then how would he have known the blonde’s name?

That had been something else.

If it wasn’t clear before, it is evident now: something’s not _right_.

* * *

Shirou isn’t really sure if he should do anything about it honestly.

After all, what’s he supposed to do against the _universe_? He’s just...him. An ordinary middle-schooler with no particular talent.

Atsuya might argue with him on that. _Ordinary? You’re anything but! You mastered just about every type of winter-related sports. You’re Hakuren’s captain, the legendary defender! You’re my brother. How could you be ordinary?_

He smiles bitterly.

There’s also the thing with Atsuya.

If Shirou’s gut feeling is to be relied on, (and judging by past experiences, they usually are.) then Atsuya himself might be a crucial part of this giant-scaled anomaly.

And Shirou doesn’t think he can handle that.

It’s doesn’t feel like anything minor either, not _Atsuya’s not your younger brother, but your older brother in fact_ ; not _Atsuya can actually snap his fingers_.

It feels like _Atsuya is not supposed to exist_.

……………………………

Let the world be wrong then. Let them live in this deviant universe.

(He wants to be selfish and turn a blind eye on everything. Is it allowed? It’s allowed to _not notice something, right_?)

There can’t possibly be anything wrong with Atsuya, not when he’s here with Shirou, because together, they are perfection.

~~Shirou feels so so so alone……~~

* * *

~~~~It turns out he doesn’t have to go searching for Fate, because destiny comes knocking his door down, like the inconsiderate asshole it is.

_He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here._

_He shouldn’t-_

But he is.

The blonde- _Aphrodi_ , is there at the stadium.

He shouldn’t be here.

Shirou wants to get mad, but when he thinks about it, it makes perfect sense to stick around. Because, why watch it through the tv when you can watch it live? It’s long over for of his team, but it’s still a good learning experience all the same. It’d be a wasted opportunity.

He nearly misses a step before snapping out of his trance.

Now is not the time. It’s _not the time_.

He tries his best not to think about the pair of brilliant red eyes he could almost _feel_ on himself and directs his attention to the game.

He belongs on the field, playing with Atsuya. It’s who he is. It’s what he’s meant to be _for_.

* * *

They lose anyway, and it’s a stupid game.

All of Raimon’s recent games are stupid. Their tactics seem to make no sense, and there aren’t even particularly skilled players.

But flukes don’t get you this far in the game.

He can’t help but think that it feels forced, like there’s some mysterious power at work behind the scenes.

Shirou scoffs at himself for the childish thought. There’s no excuse for losing. It’s all on _them_. Or at least, it should be, but why does it still feel unsettling?

Shirou’s been asking so many question these past, confusing few weeks, (only it feels longer, _so much longer than that_ ) and he doesn’t seem to be any closer to getting any answers.

“Excuse me-” A voice calls behind him as he makes his way out the stadium, and Shirou whips his head around so fast he almost snaps his neck. There he is, in the _flesh_. “Fubuki Shirou- _kun_. That’s you, right?”

Shirou’s surprise must’ve shown because the guy quickly rushes to explain himself. “I don’t mean that in a creepy way.” he offers a hand. “Afuro Terumi. But most people call me Aphrodi.”

Shirou feels his breath catch, but it isn’t anything dreamy or romantic like the movies and the flowery scenes in those _shoujo manga_. It feels more like deja vu, like somehow he knew what Afuro Terumi was going to say even before he voiced them out loud.

Shirou takes his hand tentatively. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Afuro- _kun_.” he slaps on a careful smile. “Is there anything I can assist you with?”

The other boy looks irked, for some reason. “Well. I’m thinking of a better way to put this.”

He’s approaching the topic with caution, and Shirou wonders if he could tell how tense Shirou is feeling. “Are you needed by your team?”

“Not urgently, no.” he says truthfully, even though a part of him is screaming _get back get back to Atsuya._

“Okay.” Afuro lets out a loud breath. “This is going to sound weird. _Please_ don’t freak out.”

Shirou says nothing. _Ba-DUM Ba-DUM Ba-DUM_ goes the beat of his heart.

“So I’ve been seeing these visions.” Afuro explains. “Of people I don’t even know. And it’s usually very fuzzy and vague, but I _distinctly_ remember seeing your face.” He coughs. “Or I _think_ it’s your face. You look the same… but the one in my vision looks, well, less sure of himself.”

“Oh.” Shirou looks down. He isn’t sure if this is what he’s been waiting for.

“You don’t seem surprised.” Afuro comments. “Or weirded out.”

Shirou frowns. “Do you want me to?”

“I want you to have a reaction.” Afuro crosses his arms.

“What kind of reaction?” Shirou presses on insistently.

“I don’t know.” A hint of frustration seeps out of his calm and collected tone. Good. He’s starting to lose his cover image. “An explanation would be nice. For example, why are you sitting around in my visions?”

“Shouldn’t that be a question for yourself?” Shirou narrows his eyes.

Afuro flushes red. “It’s not a weird pervert thing!”

“I never said it was.”

“You’re not being completely honest with me.” Afuro tosses the statement out flatly. It falls in the middle of the boys, and the weight of the situation makes it feel like a ticking time bomb.

Shirou does a mind battle of his own, balancing his choices, and the pros and cons of each route. He finally relents in defeat. “I want to know what’s going on as much as you do.” He is attentive in his wording, making sure he doesn’t let out too much at a time. “But I don’t know how to explain it either, assuming you’re experiencing something similar to my own recent conditions.”

_~~No No Nono there’s nothing wrong nothing nothing nothing noth~~ _

“So you’ve noticed.”

“Yes. It’s like I’m living in a different timeline in those visions. Like memories from a past life. And I remember thinking that you seem familiar.”

_~~What are you DOING you’re betraying your brother you’re betraying ATSUYA~~ _

They fall into an awkward silence.

“At least I know that I’m not going crazy.” Afuro breaks the silence.

“Speak for yourself. I really don’t think I’m the sanest around here.”

He raises his eyebrows dramatically. “Well then, at least I know that I’m not going crazy on my own.”

Shirou snorts involuntarily. “That’s fair.”

Afuro settles into a gentle smile. “There. You finally stopped scowling.”

“I wasn’t scowling.” Shirou protests, feeling his face starting to heat up. He curses the uncertainty in his own voice.

“You’re right, you weren’t.” Afuro agrees solemnly.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Would never dream of it.” he winks, and Shirou thinks that he’s not energized enough to deal with Afuro’s antics. (Ironically, from what he remembers, Afuro’s team sponsor is an energy drink.)

Atsuya’s distant voice drifts through the dense air idly. “- _ki, Aniki. Someoka-san’s showing the team to this yakiniku place. You coming?_ ”

"Give me a second.” Shirou calls back. He doesn’t miss the grumbling from his brother’s side.

“That’s your cue, I’m guessing?”

Shirou nods. “See you around, Afuro- _kun_.”

He isn’t sure if he imagined Afuro’s voice behind his back, muttering, “That’s not what you used to call me.”

* * *

He brushes off Atsuya’s suspicious glances and the team’s curious faces, but he can tell that Atsuya’s not satisfied with his indefinite answers, because his brother keeps throwing over silent but persistent questions.

For the first time in his life, Shirou doesn’t tell Atsuya.

He knows that it hurt his brother tremendously, for Atsuya became silent. Too silent. Shirou supposes they’re in the midst of a family cold war. The thought chills him to the bones. (Pun unintended.)

But he doesn’t know how he is supposed to tell his brother that he thinks he shouldn’t be _living_. At least, not in this world.

* * *

A weird dream comes to him that night.

_Fubuki. You’re Fubuki, right? Right?_

_Hang on. We’re fixing this. We’re almost there. You just have to be a little more patient._

_Almost._

_Have you made amends yet?_

He wakes up, thinking, _what amends?_

* * *

The flashbacks are hitting him more and more intensely as the time passes by.

Flashes of color, of slimmers of emotion, of his own reflection: eyes flaring golden.

(His eyes are a dark gray, nowhere _near_ gold.)

(Atsuya’s eyes, on the other hand, has golish orange orbs.)

(He’s even more confused than before.)

* * *

Cold war or not, he and Atsuya still do everything together. (It might be a little mean, but the truth is Atsuya doesn’t exactly have friends on his own.)

That’s when Afuro joins them on the stands of the stadium.

“Fubuki Shirou- _kun_.”

Shirou looks up. “Afuro- _kun_.”

Atsuya yelps. “The hell do _you_ want with my brother?”

“Nothing. I’d just like to have a word, that’s all.” Afuro puts up both his hands in defeat. “In private.” He adds.

“Over my _dead ass body_.” Atsuya hisses.

“This is not a time to get defensive, Atsuya.” Shirou scolds. “Where’s your courtesy?”

Atsuya stares at him, eyes wide as saucers. “ _My courtesy?_ You’re what, now? Just- taking _his_ side, over your _brother’s_? I was just trying to look after you.”

“And I don’t need that right now. I can handle myself just fine.” Shirou insists, despite the tiny seed of guilt dropping, and burying itself deep into his chest. “I’ll just hear what he has to say. I’ll meet you back at the hotel _later_ , okay?”

“What is _wrong_ with you?” He shoves Shirou roughly as he pushes his way down the stairs.

He tears his gaze away forcefully from Atsuya’s steaming figure.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Shirou apologizes. “He’s… we’re working through some issues.”

Afuro sits down beside him. “Working through, as in actually sorting said issue out, or just avoiding and pretending it never existed.”

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business.” Shirou’s voice is tight.

“I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

“It hasn’t even been that long since we last talked.” Afuro complains. “And now we’re back to strangers.”

“We’ve always been strangers.” Shirou keeps his voice at a monotone. “Are you going to make a point now?”

“I don’t actually have a point specifically in mind,” he admits. “I just saw you over here and decided to say hello.”

“So you drove my brother away for no reason?”

“I wasn’t sure what we’d talk about.” Afuro protests. “I did it to be safe.”

Shirou huffs. “You wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”

“Fine by me.” Afuro continues on smoothly. “How’s your day, Fubuki Shirou- _kun_?”

“Queasy. Until you showed up and brought it up to the brink of vomiting.”

“Charmed.” Afuro wrinkles his nose. “Whatever happened to that gentle, sweet-willed boy I once knew, sitting on the sidelines?”

“That’s really insensitive, Afuro- _kun_.”

“I’m not… I wasn’t trying to… Sorry.” he falters.

Shirou shrugged and starts picking at his fingernails, a habit he and Atsuya shared. _Atsuya. Atsuya. Atsuya._

“Was the scarf your brother’s?” Afuro asks abruptly.

“Excuse me?”

“The one in that other world,” Afuro clarifies. “The one you were always wearing. Was it your brother’s?”

_Yes_.

“Yes.” Shirou’s tone sounds clipped and icy, even to himself. It is what he’s aiming for anyway though, so it’s fine. Maybe.

Down on the field, Raimon’s midfielder, the one called Inamori appears to be in the middle of a yelling match with his own coach. His arms waved around animatedly. He seems to be upset about something. Something severe.

“How long do you think we’re going to have to wait?” Shirou asks, redirecting the previous topic.

“What do you mean?”

“They said that they would fix it soon. And that I should make amends. Whatever that means.”

Afuro’s eyes are deep, curiously ruby-colored. Unreadable. “How much exactly do you remember from that other timeline?”

“Honestly. Not much. I only got fractions that are impossible to piece together.”

“Right.” Afuro nods to himself. “I got a bit more than that. I remember joining Raimon for some reason- the original Raimon, not the team this year- and seeing you, but you weren’t on the field, and you seemed troubled. And I remember wanting to help you with whatever it is you were troubling about.” Then his expression shifts slightly. “I also remember ending up in the hospital. So there’s that.”

The entire Raimon team seems to be upset about something. A few others have joined Inamori, and the match on the field skids to a stop.

Shirou bites down on his lower lip. “What if I don’t _want_ to get back to that world?” he challenges.

“Okay. Why not?” Afuro doesn’t tell him he’s absurd. And he doesn’t even widen his eyes incredulously.

He thinks he’s thankful for that.

So he tells Afuro truthfully. “I might not remember much about the other timeline, but I _do_ know the things that are wrong with this one. Or at least, partly. And they’re all pointed towards Atsuya.”

“Your brother?”

“I can’t lose him.” Shirou says. “I _can’t_. Not after out parents just _left_ us all alone. We’re all each other has left. I can’t _do it_ without him.”

“You don’t know that-”

“Yes I do.” Shirou cuts him off. “ _You_ don’t know me.”

Afuro falls silent, and for a split second Shirou fears that he’s made the boy upset.

“I think you underestimate yourself. The Fubuki Shirou _I_ remember was a fighter. He had the eyes of a warrior.”

“Sorry to let your hopes down.” Shirou stares down at his shoes, and he thinks he might be able to burn holes in them with the intensity he’s holding. “I’m not him.”

“You underestimate yourself.” Afuro echoes again.

Beneath them, the match had just been cancelled abruptly. There is a lot a screaming, and all twenty-two players on the field are in chaos. The audience breaks into confused murmurs before erupting into a heated riot, hollering at the game hosts.

Afuro leans forward from curiosity.

Shirou quickly backs off, and sprints away from the commotion of the stadium.

_Away. Away. Away._

Overhead, a storm starts brewing.

* * *

Fortunately, he gets back to the hotel before the raindrop start smashing down and drenching him completely.

_Un_ fortunately, Atsuya is waiting for him when he gets back.

Of course. If he were totally honest to himself, Shirou would admit that he’s been anticipating it.

It doesn’t mean he’s any readier for it.

He rubs his temples tiredly. “Atsuya, I’d really prefer it if you don’t start firing off at me.”

“What else am I to do here, then?” Atsuya whines frustratedly. “I don’t know what it is you want me to _think_. You said you didn’t know him, and now you’re just _chatting with him_?”

“I _didn’t_.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Shirou says calmly. “Do you want me to apologize?”

“ _No!_ ” Atsuya starts pulling at his hair. “That’s _so not_ the point!”

“Then what _is_ the point?”

“The _point is_ : You don’t tell me _anything anymore_.”

Shirou’s heart sinks down into his stomach. “Atsuya.” He says levelly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” his little brother seethes. “I _know you_ better than _anyone else in the world._ I can _tell_ when you’re bullshitting me.”

“Language!”

Atsuya scoffs distastefully. “ _Now_ you’re educating me on that. A perfect diversion of the topic you so desperately want to avoid, isn’t it?”

“You can’t just _accuse_ me like that, Atsuya.”

“Sure I can, _aniki._ ” he mocks, dragging out every single tiring syllable. “It’s just the laws of nature. Every single pair of siblings in this world fights, _aniki._ ”

“Except us.” It doesn’t come out any louder than a whisper.

Atsuya shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. You think you know better because you’ve been around an year longer, but guess what? You’re not _always_ right. If you could just _see that, and accept that._ But you just want to live in your perfect happy little bubble of oblivion.”

They’ve never fought before. Sure, there were slight squabbles, but you never _fought_ , not seriously. Because Shirou _hates_ seeing his brother unhappy. Because the moment he lay eyes on his infant sibling, he vowed to bring him happiness only. Because that’s what being an elder brother means. At the end of the day, you only want the best for them.

If only Atsuya can _understand that_.

Sleep doesn’t come easily that night, still feeling too raw and too shaken from their earlier disagreement.

Shirou doesn’t know how to protect his brother anymore.

* * *

_Have you made amends yet?_

* * *

Shirou wakes up with a start, sitting up on his bed, wide awake and alert, and he normally would have blamed it on his heightened paranoia.

But it feels different this time, somehow.

He reaches for his phone, heart still racing, and he can’t help but notice the huge gaping hole aching inside his chest, and it _doesn’t add up_. He can’t even remember what he’d been dreaming about before he woke up, yet his chest doesn’t stop heaving, and the adrenaline doesn’t stop pumping through his veins.

His screen lights up. It’s 3:55 in the morning. Shirou really _really_ hates disturbing his friend at such an ungodly hour but he can’t stop the shivering, and it’s freaking him out.

“ _Fubuki-_ kun _?_ ” comes the groggy voice from the other side of the line.

“Aphrodi- _kun_.” Shirou exhales, feeling himself relaxing down just by hearing his friend’s voice. “Sorry to wake you.”

“No don’t worry. I’ve been up for ages.” the other boy reassures.

Shirou makes a face at the tactless lie. “No. You haven’t.”

“You caught me.” Shirou can still hear the yawn in his voice. “Alright. I’m up now. What do we want to talk about today?”

It’s a system they have. They battle their respective demons, and when they get overwhelmed by it all, the other is a phone call away. And there’s no need for any explanation. They just talk, sometimes about the things that were bothering them, sometimes everything _but_. They work this way.

“Can we talk about middle school?”

“Middle school?”

Middle school is so far away. It feels like a previous lifetime. It holds some of their worst memories as well as some of their best. It’s a key to the past, a doorway that shaped who they are today. Shirou doesn’t know why he’s bringing it up now, but he does. “Yeah.” he says into the microphone. “If that’s okay.”

“Middle school it is. What in particular?”

“Everything.” Shirou replies.

Out of the shadows, the morning is just breaking through.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos to u if you managed to spot the references and puns i ｓｍｕｇｇｌｅｄ in.  
> I just love alternate timelines don't you? :DDDDDDDDDDD  
> This is me low-key throwing shade at Ares oops. Watch them disprove everything I wrote on a whim just because I was feeling petty about ep 15 this Friday.  
> Enjoyed this? Hated this? Confused? Pissed that I didn't put the whole story of this AU in? Either way you're completely welcome to yell at me on tumblr @revivedandabandonedkids


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